


Those We Once Knew

by RayJay47



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Childhood Trauma, Drug Use, Drunk Sex, Drunken Confessions, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Fuckbuddies, Lots of Drugs, M/M, Panty Kink, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Slow Romance, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Trans Character, Very very dark and angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-06-29 08:42:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15725910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RayJay47/pseuds/RayJay47
Summary: There is beauty in spiraling out of control. The term is used often and to describe someone that is starting to make poor choices. To Otabek, though, it was a revelation.





	1. Here We Go Again

**Author's Note:**

> Posting the first chapter to see how it goes. Kind of wrote this when I was in a bad place. Has a lot of dark themes, so I wasn't sure whether to post it or not. That is why I am starting with the first chapter. Let me know in the comments if this seems interesting to you.

"Harder, harder, harder!"

She wouldn't stop screaming. No matter how fast Otabek went, she always wanted more. It was getting more annoying than hot, and he wanted nothing more than for her to shut up.

He had to physically stop himself from rolling his eyes when she started clawing at the sheets. She was acting like an animal. Otabek knew he was good, but he wasn't that good.

When it gets to the point where you have to close your eyes and imagine someone else just to finish, then it is time to find someone new.

Otabek wasn't dating the girl or anything. They were simple friends with benefits, minus the friends. They have only known each other for a couple weeks.

They met at a party. Otabek normally ignored girls with funky colors in their hair, but the pink suited her. April really was a pretty girl, but she wore too much makeup. The bright blue lipstick just throws him off and it gets all over his dick.

He pulled out when he came, having not been wearing a condom. He knows it is stupid, but the only condoms he had on him were latex. Poor April was allergic to latex, so they had to go without.

It wasn't that big of a deal. They were both clean, and she just got off her period anyways. Low chance of any unwanted pregnancies.

"Damn it, Beck. You got cum on my bra." She whined, grabbing a tissue and trying to wipe herself clean.

Otabek just rolled his eyes and pulled his jeans back on. He was in desperate need for a shower, but didn't want to stay here longer than he had to. It took him longer to find his shirt, it having been stuck under the bed. Once he was dressed he headed straight out, not even saying goodbye to April.

The cold morning air of late January was like a slap in the face. He was definitely awake after he stepped outside. He should have brought a jacket.

April's apartment is only a couple blocks from his own. Last night he didn't feel the need to drive for such a short distance. He regrets that now.

He has taken The Walk Of Shame many times before. It is nothing special. He was just annoyed by the weather. 

A few people gave him strange looks while he walked. That could be for a number of reasons, however. His clothes. His lack of jacket. His disheveled appearance. The large bruise on the left side of his cheekbone.

People staring wasn't anything new, nor will it ever be. No matter where he goes, people stare. After moving here to New York for college, he stopped caring.

Otabek kept his head down as he walked, watching the pavement. He wasn't in the mood for confrontation this morning. Besides, he still needed to figure out how he was going to apologize to his roommate.

The apartment he lived in wasn't anything fancy. It wasn't cockroach infested like most of the others, but it wasn't like anyone would have a family here. It was nothing but studio apartments.

Walking up to the elevator, Otabek was surprised to find that it wasn't broken. It seems like it is under maintenance every other week. He climbed on and pushed the button for the 3rd floor.

While he waited for the elevator to get to his floor, Otabek stared at his hands. Skipping a shower was a terrible idea, especially with the water pressure in this side of the building. He sighed, and shoved his hands in his pockets before heading down the hallway.

His apartment was closer towards the middle of the building. He would have preferred being at the end of the hall, but it was already taken. He doesn't spend too much time in his apartment anyways.

As he went to open the door, he realized he had left his keys in his jacket. His jacket was laying on his bed. Jean was going to kill him.

Having no other option, Otabek banged on the door.

It was just past eight in the morning. Jean had class at nine, so he should be up, eating breakfast. Even so, Otabek was kind of surprised when the door opened.

Otabek's roommate, Jean, was standing on the otherside of the door, clearly pissed off.

"You forget your damn key again?" He asked, to which Otabek nodded in response. He didn't even wait for Jean to reply; he just pushed his way inside.

Jean gagged when Otabek walked by. "Dude, you smell just like your cooking. You aren't getting breakfast until you shower."

Otabek knew he stunk, but Jean spraying Febreeze everywhere was a bit much. He took a detour to his room to grab a clean set of clothes before heading to the bathroom.

The bathroom itself was probably the worst part of the apartment. The water didn't even get hot. Just lukewarm. Otabek never stayed under the stream for more than 10 minutes. As soon as he was clean, he was out.

He used a body wash that was one of those 3-1 shampoo, body wash, and conditioners. The label on the bottle said it was 'rocky ocean waves' scented.

As he stepped out of the shower, he took a minute to look at himself in the mirror. He had red marks down his sides, and when he turned, he could see them on his back, too. April liked to scratch him up.

Otabek sighed and put his clothes on. He grabbed a simple pair of jeans and a gray T-shirt. He had class in 2 hours, so he could stop by the coffee shop on his way to campus.

Even though he was overdue for a shave, Jean had used the last of the shaving cream last week and they haven't gotten around to get more.

The bruise on his cheek was fresh. He had gotten it last night during a argument with Jean, ending with him getting kicked out for the night.

It wasn't rare for roommates to fight. It was quite normal, actually. Otabek knew this, of course. But considering what the fight was about, he definitely had no room to talk.

"Yo, Beck! Stop shaving your vagina and get out!" Jean shouted, pounding on the bathroom door. "I have to piss!"

Otabek rolled his eyes and gathered his stuff. He opened the door, narrowing his eyes at Jean before heading to his room. He tossed his dirty clothes into the corner and flopped down on his mattress.

He used to have a bed. It broke about a week ago after a bad combination of rage and Hennessey. Otabek has been stuck sleeping on a mattress on the floor as a form of punishment.

Spiraling out can be fun, but you have to crash eventually.

Otabek reached over and grabbed his phone off of the top of his dresser. He had left it there to charge over night, and hasn't been able to check his messages.

He had 1 from Jean, 2 from April, and 1 from his brother. He already knew none of them were important and ignored them. Biting his lip, he click on his contacts and scrolled down until a familiar name showed up on his screen.

Mila

She was probably still asleep. The only time she had ever woken up before 12 was when Otabek had made her breakfast. He wondered if her new boyfriend made her breakfast.

Before he could do something he would later regret, Otabek shut off his phone and rolled over on his stomach. It didn't take him long until he was dreaming of cotton candy lips.


	2. All Was Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are. Chapter 2. Didn't think I would post another, but hey. Shit happens.
> 
> I am going to mention this warnibg again, because I didn't really do a good job last time. This is a dark story. Like, REALLY dark. So, if you are in to something like that, read ahead. If not, here is your warning.
> 
> There is also a lot of drug use in this, so if you find that triggering, don't read.

_Lights fade into a fleeting memory. Silky pale skin turning blue and purple. The sound of bottle braking. Blood running over green glass._

_"Beck! Beck, wake up!"_

_Was he dreaming? No, he couldn't be. Everything felt so real. The stale air in his lungs, the throbbing in his head, the hands on his shoulders._

_The voice kept shouting. It took a minute to realize the voice was coming from Jean, not the figure on front of him._

_"Come on, man. You need to wake up." It was still Jean's voice, and he sounded worried._

_He had to be dreaming. But how? The hands around his throat feel so real. He tried to focus on the voice, on crawling out of the nightmare, but the man standing in front of him hit him. Again. Again._  
   
   
Otabek jumped awake, sitting up in his bed. He was panting and sweaty, and his face stung like he had been slapped.

"Fuck, Altin." Jean said. "You scared the shit out of me.

Otabek ignored him and wiped his face, willing himself to calm down. He glanced over at the clock and his eyes went wide. It was nearly 10:00pm.

He slept for over 12 hours.

Jean stopped him when he tried to get out of bed. "Woah, hey, take it easy."

Otabek nodded, still shaking from the nightmare. He hadn't had one that vivid in a while.

"What did you take?"

Confused, Otabek looked over at his roommate. He was standing above him, a mixture of anger and concern evident on his face.

When he didn't respond, Jean spoke again. "I know you took something. You were gone all night, and looked like death when you came here this morning. It took me 10 minutes to wake you up!"

He sighed, trying not to lose his temper. Otabek didn't blame him; if the roles were switched, he would be pissed off, too.

"I'm not going to ask you again." Jean stated firmly. "What did you take?"

Otabek shook his head in response. He really didn't take anything. At least, he doesn't think he did. He was with April all night. She may be kinky as fuck, but she didn't do drugs.

Jean sighed, obviously not believing him. "I'm going to heat up some leftovers. You will eat, drink, and then you can go back to bed."

As Jean left the room, Otabek was left with his own thoughts. He was sitting on the edge of his mattress, clenching and unclenching his fists. He was still shaking, and he knew he wouldn't stop until he calmed down.

Problem was, he won't calm down. Not for a while. Nightmares like that are the reason he tries to stay awake as much as he can. If he doesn't sleep, he doesn't have to dream.

With a sigh, he rose to his feet. He would have to email his professor, see what he missed. He only had Ethics and History today anyways.

His jeans were making him uncomfortable, so he opted to change into some sweats. He was just going to be lounging around the apartment anyways.

Otabek shuffled out of his room and towards the main room. Their dinning room and living room were combined, with only half a wall between it and the kitchen. Jean was standing in front of the microwave, heating something up. Otabek ignored him and went straight for the fridge.

Jean didn't say anything until he saw Otabek grab a beer. "Nope. Not going to happen. Water only."

Otabek rolled his eyes but obeyed. It was easier to just go along with it than to try to fight Jean. He always gets his way.

His hands were asking when he grabbed a glass from the cupboard. Otabek assumed it was from the nightmare, but Jean gave him a strange look.

"Shit, Beck. When was the last time you ate?"

Since when did shaking hands have to do anything with food? Otabek didn't know much about science or health or anything, but Jean was planning on becoming a trainer or coach or something, so he had to take all of those classes.

Otabek shrugged in response again. He hadn't been able to eat all day, considering he was asleep, and it wasn't like he had time to eat at April's.

"Jesus, no wonder you look like shit." Jean stated, going over to the cabinet and grabbing the peanut butter. "Your blood sugar is probably in the pits of Hell right now."

Otabek was prescribed a cup of apple juice and a spoonful of peanut butter along with his Subway sandwich and water. Jean kept watching over him, like he was about to drop dead any minute.

He was nibbling on his sandwich when he heard Jean sigh. "Let me get something for your eye..."

Jean left the room, probably in search for a bandaid or something. Otabek was left alone to think over a few things.

It was ironic how Jean and Otabek interacted. They could be at each others throats one minute, and taking care of each other the next.

Otabek wasn't good at the physical health stuff. He could give you a bandaid if you skin your knee, but that's about it. Jean does try to teach him some stuff, and he is getting netter at it. However, he is better when it comes to the problems of the more abstract nature.

If Jean is having problems with his girlfriend, he will vent to Otabek. If he can't figure out what to get her for her birthday, he comes to Otabek. If he is stressing out about a test or a family visit, he comes to Otabek.

It wasn't like Jean wouldn't be able to help Otabek. He tries to, actually. Otabek just rather do with his shit himself. If by deal with it he means bury it all under a mountain or poor choices, then that is what he will do.

He was finished with his sandwich and was sucking on the peanut butter when Jean came back with a small first aid kit.

"You have a small gash above your cheek. Let me make sure it is clean." Jean stated as he grabbed an alcohol pad.

Otabek sat still while Jean fixed him up. He even made him ice his face to try and lower the swelling. Even though he didn't out right say it, Otabek knew Jean felt bad for hitting him.

He had every right to. Otabek shouldn't have kept something like that from Jean. He may be his roommate, but he is also his best friend. He just wished people would stop hitting him ever time he came out.

The two of them sat there in silence for a few minutes, neither knowing what to say. Otabek knows he should say something, apologize for what he did. The words just wouldn't come to his mouth.

Otabek cleared his throat, adjusting the ice pack on his face. "Still have that pipe I gave you for your birthday?"

Jean looked confused for a moment, before a wide grin spread across his face. He chuckled, and looked to his feet.

"If we keep this up, the neighbors are going to think we are pot heads." Jean said as he stood up.

Otabek just chuckled. "Aren't we?"

While Jean went to go grab his pipe, Otabek headed to his own room. He opened up his bottom dresser drawer, removing the fake bottom. Inside contained a small shoe box next to a smaller wooden box with a lock on it. Otabek removed the shoebox and closed the drawer.

He brought the box back to the main room and flopped down on the grey couch. He removed the top and pulled out one of the bags and his grinder. No painkiller worked as well as this.


	3. To Each His Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Otabek is a bit of a junkie and does junkie things. Warning for this chapter and later chapters, too, but domestic violence is mentioned.
> 
>  
> 
> Special thanks to White for listening to me ramble about this story. Couldn't write it without you love.

Depression ads always go on and on about how you can never feel a bit of happiness again. In reality, it isn't too hard to trick yourself into feeling happy again. Put on a smile and tell yourself you are having a good time and eventually you will.

Hazy smoke clouds, Cheetos, and Pink Floyd are the best combination to reach the level of nirvana where your troubled past can't find you. Moments like these, it is best to focus in the scene instead of thinking what will happen next.

Granted, setting the couch on fire probably wasn't the greatest idea.

It was Jean's fault. He wanted to burn the imprint of a penis on the side of the couch. He made an imprint, alright. The entire left arm of the couch was now black.

Both tired and fuzzy headed, they agreed to leave it until later. The fire was out, there was no danger of burning the apartment down. Might as well get some rest and deal with it in the morning.

Rest doesn't happen, because neither does sleep. Otabek stays awake, laid out like a starfish on his mattress. His mind does not want to let sleep in.

"No rest for the wicked, I suppose." Otabek murmured to himself. 

The bedding on his mattress consisted of grey sheets, a darker grey comforter, and a black fleece throw. He liked to think of himself as minimalistic. 

His bedroom was mostly bare. A mahogany dresser and table were the only other pieces of furniture he had. He only used the table for his work.

The floor was pale wood, as it was in the rest of the apartment. The walls were the beige color they were when Otabek got the apartment. He had been too lazy to repaint it.

The only decoration that Otabek has is Christmas lights on his ceiling. Jean put them up there one night, wanting to piss Otabek off. He wasn't going to admit he kind of liked having the twinkling lights above his bed.

Right now, that was the only thing Otabek was looking at. He stared at them for what could have been hours. He wasn't really sure.

Nights like these, he normally puts in his headphones, closes his eyes, and waits for morning. He won't sleep, and he hates feeling time slowly pass by him. 

There was one other option, but he only used it on special occasions. He knows it is stupid and that he is playing with fire by doing this, but he doesn't care. He needs to do something else besides this.

He felt like he was in someone else's body as he made his way to his dresser. His brain was eating away at itself. He just needed something to get him out of his skin. Just for a little while.

Otabek pulled the bottom drawer open again and removed the fake bottom. The shoebox was there, just like last time. However, the shoebox wasn't the goal; the wooden box was.

Biting his lip, Otabek reached in and grabbed it. His heart was already beating faster in anticipation. It hadn't been long since he has done this, but he missed the feeling.

He walked back to his mattress and sat down. He reached into his pillow, feeling around until he found the small key. He grabbed it and unlocked the box, opening it.

Otabek wasn't lying earlier that night when Jean asked him what he took. Otabek hadn't taken anything then. Now, however, he can't resist.

Inside the wooden box is 2 small plastic bags. Each bag contains a few small, green pills. They weren't that hard to obtain. Marijuana isn't the only thing his dealer sells.

Oxycodone is a tricky drug. You can't take it too often or you will get addicted, and that isn't fun for anybody. But if you only take it once every few weeks, you are good to go.

It has only been a week since Otabek last took these, but he should be fine. He just won't take them for a longer time later on.

He has had a hard time lately; he deserves a break.

Otabek swallowed down 2 of the little pills and put everything back in it's hiding spot. If Jean found this, he would kill Otabek.

With a sigh, Otabek laid back down on his bed and put in his headphones. He selected one of his Nirvana albums and pressed play.

Fifteen minutes go by before he feels it. It feels like an explosion of happiness all throughout his body. The ache in his knees were gone, along with the headache from earlier. His spine and fingers tingled and he felt warm all over.

It was the best feeling in the world. He never wanted it to end.

Of course, it had to. Three hours go by, and the initial euphoric feeling goes away. He stills feels calm and relaxed for a few more hours, though. Long enough that he was still feeling the effects when his alarm went off.

Otabek got up, knowing that Jean was going to come check on him eventually. He felt a little sluggish, but powered through it. Grabbing a clean set of clothes, he headed for the shower.

He needed to make a pill run sometime soon. He was starting to run low. It wouldn't hurt to get Jean some more pot, too.

Just as Otabek was stepping out of the shower he heard voices. One he could easily tell was Jean's. The other one, however, was female. Otabek didn't notice it was Isabella until he heard her speaking French.

Isabella was Jean's girlfriend, and both of them were fluent in French. They normally only spoke in it when they wanted to talk about Otabek without him knowing. It really pissed him off.

He walked into the main room, only wearing a pair of jeans and some socks. He towel dried his hair as he went to the kitchen. Jean and Isabella traded glances and gave him a warm smile.

"Morning, Beck. Feeling better?" Jean asked as he leaned against the dinning table. 

Otabek didn't respond. He wasn't in the mood for conversation. Isabella waved at him, but her expression was stiff. She was always better at picking up social cues than her boyfriend.

Opening the fridge, Otabek sighed. All that was left was 3 bottles of beer, half a carton of milk, and a couple apples. Lucky him. It was his turn to do groceries.

He heard Jean talking but didn't pay attention to what he was saying. Instead, he stared at the food in the fridge and contemplated whether an apple and a glass of milk would be good enough, or if he should stop by McDonald's on his way to class. He loved the sausage, egg, and cheese biscuits.

"...I mean it is not like I was trying to contact her or anything. She called me. Anyways, I think..."

Jean's rambling was giving Otabek a headache. Why can't he talk to his girlfriend in his own room? Otabek didn't need to hear this.

With a sigh of defeat, he grabbed the milk carton and one of the coffee cups from the cabinet. He poured himself a glass and sipped at it.

"So I was just wondering which one of you were lying. You, or Mila."

Otabek's head snapped up after hearing the name of his ex. Oh, Jean was talking to him, not Isabella.

He cleared his throat and set his cup down. "Sorry, what? I wasn't listening."

Jean seemed annoyed by his honesty, and exchanged a look with Isabella again. Otabek hated it when they did that. It made him feel like he was 7 and his parents were deciding how to tell him his goldfish died.

"You told me Mila dumped you after you told her you were bisexual." Jean stated.

Otabek clenched and unclenched his jaw before nodding, looking down at the floor. "Yeah, yeah that's what happened."

This time, it was Isabella that stepped forward. She was the one that introduced Otabek to Mila, considering they used to be roommates. Mila and Isabella were still really close.

"That's not what she told me." She said, getting a serious look on her face.

Otabek felt his body go cold. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked back up, forcing out a fake laugh. "Oh? What did she tell you?"

"She told me that you hit her."


	4. Face Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You finally get to meet Yuri! Some people disagree, but I like to think of his as dressing kind of feminine. It just suits him well.
> 
> I will try to get more of a regular schedule with the updates. If you have been following me and reading my stories you know this rarely happens.

"Is it true?" Jean asked, crossing his arms. "Did you hit her?"

Otabek looked between Jean and Isabella, not really knowing how to respond. No matter what he said, they wouldn't understand. 

It is best to just rip the bandaid off, then.

He sighed, and pulled a chair out from the dinning table, sitting down. "It's a long story."

Jean scoffed, earning a glare from Isabella. She walked over and sat down across from Otabek.

"Look, we are just trying to help. You haven't been yourself since you got back from Almaty."

Otabek immediately tensed up. He tried to hide it, but he could see that both of them noticed.

He hated this. He hated questions that made it sound like they were trying to talk him off of a ledge or something. What they needed was boundaries. If Otabek didn't want to talk about something, then they shouldn't ask.

The jittery feeling was coming back, and he felt like picking at his skin. His whole body felt uncomfortable and he was having trouble sitting still. Images kept flashing in his mind.

Pill bottles. Bruised knuckles. Black hair on white tile.

No. No, the couldn't think of this right now. He needed to get out of there.

"Beck?" Jean asked, voice softer now. It was almost like he had a permanent look of worry on his face while dealing with Otabek. "Are you alright?"

Otabek stood up, faster than he intended. The chair he had been sitting on screeched loudly as it scrapped against the floor.

"Fine. I'm fine. I am going to be late." He didn't even wait for a response before he was hurrying out the door and down the stairs. No time to take the elevator.

Taking the steps two at a time, Otabek hurried out of the apartment. He started running, sprinting down the pavement.

He had no indicated destination. He just knew he needed to get away from the apartment. Away from Jean and his prying girlfriend.

Otabek nearly ran 6 blocks before he headed inside what looked like a vintage music store. As soon as he stepped inside, he realized he wasn't wearing his jacket again.

Or a shirt.

He was so desperate to get out of the apartment that he forgot to put a shirt on. Luckily, there were only 2 people in the store: a girl in her mid teens working the counter, and a blond guy browsing the CDs.

The girl looked up at him and smiled. "Don't worry. We don't have a 'no shoes, no shirt, no service' policy here."

This drew the attention from the blond at the back of the store. He looked up, and Otabek caught his eye. 

The pounding in his chest wasn't just from running so fast. The blond had such an intense look about him. He was wearing eyeliner with a wing so sharp it looked like it could cut. He smiled, his bubblegum pink lips spreading into almost a grimace.

He was wearing a pair of camo skinny jeans and a grey tank top. His hair was pulled up into a ponytail, giving Otabek a great view of his face. It was like he was put under a spell.

The guy looked away, turning his attention back to the box of CDs he was looking through. "You always get the weird ones on Wednesdays."

So, another foreigner. Otabek wasn't sure, but he was pretty sure the guy was Russian. One of Otabek's teachers at the university, Yakov, is Russian.

Otabek pressed his lips together and walked down the first aisle. He pretended to be looking for a certain CD. He doesn't even know why he bothered; everyone in the store knew that wasn't the reason he was in there.

"So, what was it?" The blood said, not looking up from his own box "The girl you were fucking have her boyfriend come home too early, so you snuck out the back?"

Otabek snorted, and shook his head. The blonde kept tilting his head in Otabek's direction, obviously intrigued.

"Fuck your roommates sister?"

Otabek shook his head.

"Maybe he was robbing the convenient store down the road." The girl offered. Even she seemed mildly interested.

After shaking his head again, the blood shrugged. "Alright, I've got nothing. Spill. Why are you running into a music store on a Wednesday morning wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and Halloween socks?"

That wasn't the weirdest way Otabek had been described before. However, he finds it amusing and is kind of glad he chose the pumpkin covered socks for today.

He picked up a CD, Green Day's Dookie, and leaned against the table. He just met these people, so who knows if they are trust worthy.

Nonetheless, Otabek took one glance at the blond and knew he had no chance.

"I was having a panic attack, so I ran. Helps me clear my head."

The blond gave Otabek a wicked grin and made his way over. Otabek gulped and watched as the blond put his hand on his chest. He hummed, and the corners of his mouth turned up.

"It was a panic attack alright. Your heart is beating crazy fast." The blond said, staring up at Otabek.

He swore the guy in front of him smirked as Otabek's heart rate picked up even more. He knew what he was doing to him, and he was enjoying it.

"Yuri, won't don't you give the guy some water?" The girl behind the counter said, opening up the mini fridge she had back there.

The guy, Yuri, rolled his eyes and pulled away. He turned away from Otabek and walked over to the counter to accept the water from the girl. While he had the chance, Otabek took a long look at Yuri's ass.

He had a pair of handcuffs dangling from one of the belt loops in his pants. 

Forget April. Otabek wanted him more than he has wanted anything in a long time. This is just what he needs to keep his mind off of things.

So when Yuri extended his hand and offered the water to Otabek, he made sure to reach for the bottle in a way that would make their hands brush against each other. 

They locked eyes, and Otabek gave his famous panty dropping smile. 

"I'm Otabek, by the way." He said, trailing his eyes up and down Yuri's body. "Everyone just calls me Beck."

Yuri smiled and gestured behind him to where an assortment if different band shirts were hung up on the wall. "Allow me to buy you a shirt?"

"Is that a flirtation?" Otabek joked, following him over to the wall. He picked out a Black Sabbath shirt and put it on while Yuri paid for it.

The girl behind the counter just kept giving them a knowing look. Otabek ignored it and kept his eyes on Yuri.

"If you aren't busy, I didn't have time for breakfast and I can use a coffee." Otabek said smoothly, leaning on the counter. He kept his face tilted down, gaze locked on Yuri's eyes.

Yuri just smiled and twirled a lose strand of hair that had fallen out of his ponytail. His eyes had a mischievous look, and Otabek already knew this guy was going to get him in a lot of trouble.

"Do I look that easy to you?" Yuri asked with a smirk, standing up straighter. "It takes more than ."

Otabek's smile faltered only a little. No big deal. He liked a challange.

"Nice meeting you, Otabek."


	5. Nevermore To Be Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in a while. Shit happens, you know?
> 
> Bit of a warning for domestic violence issues. At least something is getting resolved.

Meeting Yuri was exactly what Otabek needed. A new project to keep his mind busy. He started working immediately.

After leaving the record store, Otabek walked to the nearest coffee shop. It was a small, vintage looking cafe. He knew a lot of the other students from campus liked to come here. 

Strong coffee and free Wi-Fi. Nothing could be better.

He ordered himself a coffee and sat at a booth. He pulled out his phone and went to Instagram. Shouldn't be too hard to find him.

First, he typed in Yuri. Of course, this didn't work because he didn't know his last name.

Then Otabek got the idea to type in the name of the record store. Sure enough, it had it's own Instagram account. Linked to it were all the employees.

Yuri Plisetsky. That was his name. Otabek clicked the follow button and scrolled through his page.

Unlike Otabek, Yuri seemed to actually use his Instagram. He had tons of selfies posted. A lot of cat pictures, too.

He spent the next 20 minutes drinking coffee and going through Yuri's Instagram. He felt slightly like a stalker, but it wasn't like he was being weird. He just wanted to know more about him.

There were some hot pictures of him, and there were some cute ones. His page ranged from shots of him in the bath with a bottle of wine to him cuddling with his cat. There were some post-workout posts that showed him shirtless, too.

It didn't help Otabek figure out what type of guy he was, but it didn't hurt either. At least it gave them another point of contact.

Otabek finished his coffee and left the shop. He still needed shoes if he was going to be out today. He wasn't that far from the apartment anyways.

He was so wrapped up in his new friend that he forgot why he left the apartment. It wasn't until he was in front of the door that he realized this. With a clenched jaw, he opened the door.

Isabella was gone, but Jean was still there. He was in the kitchen drinking a glass of water when Otabek walked in. 

Otabek walked to the fridge, not saying anything. He was waiting for Jean to speak. To yell at him, demand him to answer his questions.

Both of them stayed silent.

Otabek remembered when they first met. He had just moved to America and was looking for a place to stay. Jean was the 3rd interview he had for a roommate.

At first, he seemed rather stuck up. Prep boy going to college with his parents money. Not really Otabeks type. But then they got stoned together and realized they liked the same music and that was good enough for them.

They didn't hang out much at first. The only words exchanged were about cleaning and groceries. It took them a while to get used to each other.

As Otabek started getting comfortable with the change, he started getting comfortable with Jean, too. 

They would get drunk and talk about their exes. Jean taught Otabek how to play poker. Otabek taught him how to play guitar.

Some nights, they would sit on the couch and have deep conversations.  Jean talking about his dreams of dropping out and becoming a model. Otabek talking about what it was like moving overseas. Why the both of them started smoking.

They hadn't had a talk like that in months.

It wasn't Jean's fault. Otabek knew he was the problem, but he didn't bother trying to fix it. He disappeared for a month and then came home and told Jean he was bi. Things were bound to get distant.

Otabek has put Jean through a rollercoaster of Helm lately. He owes him an apology. Perhaps an explanation would suffice.

With a sigh, Otabek faced Jean, leaning on the counter. "Isabella was right. I hit Mila."

Jean just looked at him and nodded. It is not like Mila would lie about something like that. Plus, they had all been close. They would have found out eventually.

"I was at her place a couple weeks ago. We got in a fight, and she said something that set me off."

Jean held up his hand before Otabek could continue. He walked over and reached into the top cabinet, pulling out a bottle of tequila.

"If we are gonna do this, we are doing it right." Jean said, grabbing the shot glasses. "Just like old times."

Otabek almost smiled. It wasn't even five, yet here they were taking shots. They moved to the couch in the living room and sat in their respective spots.

After they each had two shots, Jean sat back in his seat. "Alright. Talk. And don't bullshit me."

Otabek thought back to that night. He wished he could say that he was drunk. That he didnt know what he was doing.

It was the fact that he knew what he was doing that was fucking him up so badly.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and didn't look up from the liquor in his glass. "I lost my temper. What do you want me to say?"

"I just want to know what happened, Beck."

Speaking was hard. Putting thoughts into words was not something Otabek was good at. He didn't even know how to explain it in a way that Jean would understand.

"I had just gotten back to America." He explained. "I was a little off as it was."

He remembered the flight back. A tight grip on the arm rests and headphones blaring so loud his ears were numb. The slow fade of the bruises.

Otabek shook his head and took another shot. His head was spinning, but it was a nice buzz. There was no question as to why it was called liquid courage.

"Mila, she could tell that I was acting differently. Kept commenting on it and shit. Drove me nuts. She would bitch when I said I was fine."

Jean was being patient. He watched every move Otabek made, analysing it. Every time he drank. Every time he looked away. Every time his hands shook.

They lived together long enough that they knew each others ticks. They could tell when the other was lying as though it was clear as day. They could also read each others emotions easily.

Otabek was a little paranoid about how Jean was watching him. Here he was, opening up after being silent for so long. He felt completely exposed.

Jean took a sip from his glass before speaking. "What did she say that pissed you off so much?"

"'You are so tense it is like there is a dick up your ass.'" Otabek couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "Of course, she didn't know I liked guys at the time."

He remembered looking at her face when she said it. She was teasing, but there was a hint of an acussation behind it. She had suspected that he was gay for a while.

Otabek also remembering seeing that expression changing to one of shock after he slapped her in the cheek. Her head went sideways from the force of it. Her skin went even paler.

Otabek cleared his throat and sat up a little. "I told her we were over with after that. I didn't want to risk that happening again."

As he went to take another drink, he started laughing. It wasn't a small chuckle either. It was more like full blown hysterics.

"She, uh, she tried to get me to stay. Kept apologizing and shit." Otabek kept laughing, looking down at his hands.

"SHE was apologizing to ME!" He shouted in between fits.

It didn't take long for his laughing to turn into crying. He had kept that night to his self for so long that everything he felt just built up.

The guilt of hitting Mila. The sting that her words had left on him. The fear that he would end up like his father. He was feeling all of it in that moment.

"I think you've had enough tequila." Jean said, moving the bottle aside.

They have had nights like this before. It used to be routine. Therapy sessions, as they liked to call it. 

Neither of them woukd speak of this night again. Jean might ask a few more questions here and there about the situation, but it won't be as serious as it was then.

"I never meant to hurt her, Jean." Otabek said, breathing heavy. "I actually cared about her."

Jean gave him a sympathetic smile and patted his back. 

"You have a tendency of hurting the people that actually care about you, Beck."

Otabek could only sit there and hope that Mila was the last one he would hurt.


	6. Another Lonely Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally have the vision of what I want for this fic. There might be typos, mostly do to the back that I have 1 inch long fake nails on and I can't type worth shit,

With the events that had panned out during the week, Otabek was overdue for some fun. Jean heard of a party that one of the fraternities was having. Seemed like the perfect getaway.

It had been a while since Otabek and Jean had partied together. Jean had been so focused on his classes lately he hadn't had time for parties. For Otabek, however, it was the opposite.

Things between the two of them was still a little off, but it wasnt as bad as it was. They would have casual conversations and small talk. It was the deep conversations that they would still shy away from.

Otabeks last class of the day ended at six. That gave him enough time to go out and eat with Jean before they got ready.

It wasd almost like a ritual that the two of them had. Nothing like what he had seen Isabella and all of her friends do. 

They would put music on and go to their respective rooms. It always took Jean a while to decide what to wear. Otabek, on the other hand, tended to wear the same stuff to every party he went to. Faded black jeans and a simple grey t-shirt.

Otabek spent more time on his hair than his outfit. Sometimes, it had a mind of it's own. How it looks all depends on the time that he showers.

If he showers in the morning, it will have air dried by the time he heads out. It would be pretty flat, but would stay out of the way. Showering in the afternoon would give similar results, depending on what he was doing during the day.

Night showers were great for washing the off the sins from the day. It also helped calm him down before he went to sleep. However, it meant he was going to bed with wet hair. Whenever he did this he would wake up with his hair sticking up everywhere. It made him look like a peacock.

"How much fucking gel do you need?" Jean said as he grabbed his comb from the bathroom. Otabek was trying to ignore his frustration in order to get his hair down.

"You are just going to have to soak it and then slick it back."

Otabek rolled his eyes before sticking his head under the sink. Jean wasn't wrong; soaking it did help. It was just annoying to have to wipe the water off his face.

He grabbed the closest towel and patted his face dry. That was when he took the time to see what Jean was wearing.

"Aren't those my jeans?" Otabek asked, noticing the black skinny jeans his roomate had on.

Jean just stuck his tongue out and combed his hair down. 

Otabek was always a little jealous of him. Jean came from an upper class family. He had the mannerisms of a posh rich boy and the attitude of a rich teenager.

However, he never let the money get to his head. Sure, he doesn't have to pay for his college, but he pays for rent. He once told Otabek that his parents tried to buy him a house once.

Jean is the only guy Otabek has ever met that wants to run away from the money. He wants to work for his pay, not have everything handed to him. Otabek admires him for that.

Doesn't mean he doesn't get that rich boy attitude from time to time.

They took a couple shots before leaving. Always best to start the party before you even get there.

Jean drove, and the party was just beginning when they got there. There was only a couple handfuls of people in the house. They headed straight for the kitchen.

Jean got a beer, and Otabek got tequila.

Otabek has never been very good at parties. He goes to them a lot, but he isn't the most social person. He spends most of his time against the wall.

He didn't mind it, however. Not a lot of people bothered him while he was there. He could drink and watch people in peace.

Jean was next to him against of the wall as more and more people filled the room. Jean switched over to the harder drinks that Otabek had, and it didn't take long for the pair to get drunk.

"Think you will take someone home tonight?" Jean asked, finishing his drink.

Otabek shrugged and looked around. He hadn't seen anyone that caught his eye yet. That is, until he saw a familiar blond dancing in the middle of the room.

A wide grin spread across his lips. Jean was talking, but he wasn't listening. He passed his drink over to him before making his way to the dance floor.

He didn't say anything, just moved behind Yuri and started dancing. He was wearing a pair of leather jeans and a black tank top. Otabek spent most of the time staring at the leather hugging his ass.

Otabek moved his hands, putting his hands on Yuri's hips. He swayed them more than before, but stayed with the beat of the music.

When Otabek finally spun him around, his was grinning like an idiot. Yuri didn't seem to mind. He did look a little surprised at seeing him, though.

"I remember you." Yuri stated. "You are the crazy guy."

Otabek just laughed. "And you are the hot blond from the record store."

"That would be me."

The song ended, and they decided to step away from the dance floor. They were both hot and sweaty already. Otabek led him to the kitchen, grabbing a cold beer.

"Where are the handcuffs tonight?" Otabek asked, a hint of teasing in his voice.

Yuri hopped up on the counter, grabbing Otabeks beer and taking a sip. He was sweating more than Otabek, having been dancing for longer. He downed the beer before setting the empty bottle beside him.

"On my bed post." Yuri replied with a smirk.

Otabek felt his heart beating faster. Yuri was fun. Really fun.

"Do some shots with me."

Yuri just smiled in response. He swung his legs, his boots hitting the bottom of the cabinet. He seemed almost playful to Otabek.

Grabbing the bottle of tequila, Otabek poured both of them a shot. Yuri swallowed it down easily, only gritting his teeth at the taste.

"Another." He said, batting his lashes at Otabek.

Who could say no to that? Otabek shrugged and poured them another one. They both slammed it down, setting the cup on the counter when they were done.

By then the room was spinning and Otabek felt light as air. Yuri was giggling, and motioned for Otabek to come forward.

Otabek grinned and moved towards him. Yuri spread his legs out, letting Otabek stand in between them. He wrapped his arms around Otabeks neck, playing with the shaved part of his head.

"Your hair is soft." Yuri said, giggling as he did.

Taking Yuri home suddenly seemed like a wonderful idea. Jean had already told him that he was going home with Isabella. That would give Otabek some privacy to do whatever he wanted.

Resting his hands on Yuri's hips, Otabek hummed. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to Yuri's neck. Yuri purred in response.

"Otabekkk..." Yuri whined, face starting to flush. "Let's get out of here."

After sucking a mark into Yuri's neck, Otabek pulled away. "Your place or mine?"


	7. Often

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we have a chapter of pure smut. Honestly I get shy about writing smut, but I think I'm getting better. There will be a lot in this fic. It is a friends with benefits fic after all.

Getting up the stairs was more challenging than it seemed, and it wasn't because they were drunk. It is hard to focus on going up each step when Yuri was nipping at his neck. Otabek had to grab his wrists just to keep him from pulling at his jeans.

"I don't think the neighbors would want to see this when they open their doors." Otabek mumbled into Yuri's ear, leading him down the hallway.

Yuri blushed and pulled away. "Sorry..."

Otabek smiled at him and chuckled, fishing in his pocket for his keys. Jean wasn't due back until late tomorrow. They had all the time they needed.

When they got inside the apartment, instead of going straight to the bedroom, Otabek made a pit stop in Jeans closet. He kept his pipe in the back corner of his closet hidden in a shoe. He wouldn't mind if Otabek borrowed it.

He walked out, and smiled at Yuri, holding up the pipe. Yuri's face lit up and he started to giggle. Good. Otabek wanted to hear more of that.

They moved into his room and Yuri sat on the bed while Otabek dug around for his stash. He had to move everything, and it was hard to remember where he put it.

Yuri tasted even better after he had a couple hits. He calmed down, too. He was no longer grabbing at Otabek ever chance he got.

Instead, he was sitting crosslegged on the bed, looking at the cieling. The room was filled with smoke, and the only light was coming from the bedside lamp. 

Yuri set the pipe down and blinked, looking around through the clouds of smoke. "Nice room."

"Thanks."

There seemed to be a nervous energy coming from Yuri. Otabek didn't want him to be uncomfortable. That is why he got him stoned. 

Music always helped him relax. Slowly, with limbs like a sloth, Otabek moved from the bed and over to his CD stand in the corner. He was more looking at the pictures than reading the covers and picked an album at random.

The soothing strum of a guitar filled the room, and Otabek turned back to Yuri. He glanced at him before looking down at the bed, cheeks pink.

"I don't normally do this kind of thing." Yuri admitted, finally meeting Otabeks eyes again.

Otabek crossed the room nonchalantly. "I don't mind."

He picked up the pipe and lit it again, Yuri watching him. He blew the smoke out upwards and pulled off his shirt. Yuri hitched a breath.

"Don't be nervous. I won't bite." Otabek said, moving on top of Yuri. "Unless you want me to."

When Yuri laughed, Otabek could still hear the nervousness, but there was a light tone in it. 

Otabek pressed his lips against Yuri's and ran his hands under his shirt. He didn't complain or try to stop him, and even pulled away to help remove his shirt.

The blush soon returned to his cheeks. "Can we do this with the lights off?"

Otabek hummed, looking down at him. "You insecure or something?"

"Yeah..."

This was a little shoking to Otabek. Yuri was the sexiest thing he has seen in a while. What does he have to be insecure about?

Nevertheless, Otabeks mother raised him right. "Don't worry, I wont judge."

They resumed kissing, and Otabek spent his time making sure Yuri was as comfortable as possible. He always did this when he fucked someone knew, especially if he thinks he can end up fucking them more than once.

Otabek kept one hand in Yuri hair, playing with it. The other he slowly slid down Yuri side, causing him to shiver. He moved it down to the front of Yuri's pants, undoing the button.

He paused for a moment to give Yuri an opportunity to stop him. When he didn't, he took the time to undo Yuri's pants and get them off.

Otabek had to bite back a laugh. Yuri would probably hit him he he started laughing, but he couldn't help it. The younger man was wearing cheetah print boxers.

"Problem?" Yuri asked, a bit on the defensive side. Touchy subject.

Otabek shook his head with a grin. "Just wondering why everyone I hook up with doesn't wear these."

That got them both laughing. Otabek was doing better at breaking the ice. Either that, or they were more drunk than they thought.

Pulling away, Otabek slid his jeans off and added them to the pile of clothes growing on the floor. He saw Yuri's eyes raking over him. They stopped at his boxers, and Otabek didn't miss the pink that came to Yuri's cheeks.

"Want me to go first?" Otabek asked, remembering how nervous Yuri had been.

Yuri gave a shaky nod, not taking his eyes off of Otabek. Not one to be deny the requests of his guests, Otabek hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, pulling them off.

He wasn't even fully hard yet, but he knew he was big. Yuri knew too, with the way his eyes widen in surprise.

"Holy hell...that is so not going to fit."

Otabek just laughed in response, climbing back on top of Yuri. "You have such little faith in me."

Trying to ease his growing nervousness, Otabek pressed his lips to Yuri's neck. He bit and sucked at the skin there, earning light moans from Yuri.

It had been a long time since Otabek was this gentle with his partner. Normally when he has sex, it is a quick fuck. Using the other person how he wanted to get off as quickly as possible.

This time was different. Yuri was fun. He was wild and hot outside of the bedroom. The change in dynamic once there were alone together, however, was a welcome change.

Otabek was having fun. He doesn't think he ever laughed while fucking any of his past hookups. Now, it seems, him and Yuri can't stop laughing.

He managed to remove Yuri's boxers while he was making his attack on his neck. He slotted himself into the space between his legs, longing for friction.

It was like he was in high school again, grinding against Yuri and swallowing the moans he let out. With every move of his hips, he could feel his dick sliding alongside Yuri's in a wonderful way. As good as it felt, he knew he wouldn't last if he kept it up.

He almost felt bad when he heard Yuri whine as he pulled away. It was short lived as he moved over to the night stand, retrieving the bottle and lube and condom he needed.

Giving Yuri a kind smile, he rubbed his hands up and down his thighs, warming him up. As he took in the sight below him, he thought about how nice it would be to have Yuri in his mouth. Yes, that sounded like a great idea.

Before he could give Yuri time to protest, he hand his hand wrapped round his shaft. He felt Yuri tense up for a moment, but relax when he started to stroke him.

Otabek has found that it is easier to open his partners up if they're distracted. This works really well if said partner hasn't been with anyone in a while, which is what he assumes the case with Yuri is.

Mostly he just wants an excuse to suck his dick.

After a few strokes, Yuri was fully hard. Otabek took advantage and leaned down, running his tongue from the bottom of the shaft all the way to the tip.

Yuri let out a small gasp, his hands flying to Otabek's hair. The noises Yuri was making only increased when Otabek wrapped his lips around his tip, swirling his tongue over the head.

If he thought Yuri's moans were good then, it was nothing as to when he finally got his fingers inside him. One made him whine. Two made him purr.

Otabek finally pulled his mouth away, focusing in the movement of his fingers. Yuri was tight, and Otabek wasn't exactly small. It was going to take a while to get him where he needed to be.

He could feel himself get harder as he watched Yuri opening up around his fingers. He really was a sight, and he would probably be jerking off to this for weeks to come.

"Squelch is a weird word." Otabek said as he pushed in a third finger, hearing the noise he explained.

Yuri looked down at him, panting breathlessly. "Shut the fuck up and finger me."

Otabek hummed, amused, and wiggled his fingers around, spreading them about to stretch them out. When he curled them, Yuri's back arched off the bed.

"Oh, fuck..." He whined, voice higher now.

Looks like Otabek found his prostate. He let out a chuckle, rubbing his fingers against the bundle of nerves.

"Now we are getting somewhere."

Otabek assumed that Yuri would have rolled his eyes if he wasn't as aroused as he was. He kept lifting his hips up and trying to push them back on Otabeks fingers. That is when he knew that Yuri was ready. He pulled his fingers out and grabbed the condom. Yuri watched him as he put it on a lined up.

It took all of Otabeks strength to not immediately shove in. He knew that Yuri was tight, but even after just getting the head in Otabek was gasping.

He took as much time as he was capable of, letting Yuri adjust. It wasn't long before he bottomed out, and could feel Yuri's tight walls around him.

"Kiss me." Yuri pleaded.

Otabek obeyed, leaning down and capturing his mouth in his. He started to rock into Yuri slowly, enjoying the small noises he made.

It didn't take long for Yuri to adjust, and soon Otabek was snapping his hips. Yuri was gasping and writhing in the sheets, coming undone beneath him.

They were both making too much noise, but Otabek didn't care. Yuri was hot and the string of curses that came out of his mouth sounded filthy. Otabek loved it.

He picked up the pace, thrusting harder into Yuri, who in turn got more vocal. He was clinging to Otabek tightly, digging his nails into his biceps. Otabek couldn't get enough of it.

As soon as Otabek wrapped his hand around Yuri's throbbing length, he was done for. He came, splattering both of their chests with the warm liquid. Otabek didn't last much longer, spilling into the condom with a choked gasp.

He pulled out and rolled over on his back, panting. He looked over, and saw the Yuri was in the same state. They shared a smile before exhaustion took over,


	8. Zero to Sixty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you know how hard it is to balance between Otabek's budding pill addiction and his hook ups with Yuri? I didn't think this through when I started writing this.
> 
> Oh well. Have another chapter

When Otabek woke up in the morning, he was alone. He wasn't surprised, although a little disappointed. Nothing is better than a morning blow job.

Sitting up, Otabek groaned and pressed his fingers to his temples. His head was pounding, and every movement made it worse.

He remembered putting his phone on top of his dresser, so he slowly got up to look for it. What he found was not only his phone, but a glass of water and 2 white pills next to a note. It was a phone number, with Yuri's signature underneath.

Otabek couldn't help but smile. Looks like this could be a regular thing after all.

Just as expected, Jean didn't show up until a while later. Otabeks hangover was mostly gone by that time. He was sitting at the kitchen table, reading from his textbook.

"Wow, didn't expect you to be studying." Jean said, grabbing a glass of water and sitting down across from Otabek.

"I think I have a test on Monday."

Jean nodded, and drank from his glass. He knew how much Otabek hated college. Sometimes, after one of them would have an important test, they would fantasize about dropping out.

It wasn't that Otabek wasn't smart enough. On the contrary, he was there on a scholarship. He just had no passion for schooling, and thought his major was pointless. Mechanical engineering, just like his dad.

He was halfway through his chapter when he noticed Jean staring at him. He could tell he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure if he should. Even after they made up, there were a few times wherw it seemed like Jean was walking on eggshells around Otabek. He hated it.

"Spit it out, Jean." Otabek said, annoyed. "I don't have all day."

Jean sighed and set his glass down. "I was just wondering if you got around to calling Ash yet."

Otabek stopped, slowly lifting his head to look at his roommate. If looks could kill, Jean would drop dead right there. "Don't."

"You know she'd understand." Jean said, ignoring Otabeks warnings. "You were the best bartender there!"

"Enough, Jean!"

Otabek was getting frustrated. He noticed his hands shaking, and was actively focusing on not letting the bad memories resurface. His job as a bartender was yet another thing ruined by his trip back home. 

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Why is it every time we have a conversation, it has to be so dramatic?"

"What do you mean?" Jean asked.

"It is either Mila or emotions or work, or something!" Otabek explained, trying to express his disdain. "What happened to us just talking about random bullshit?"

Jean was looked at him with a blank expression. He kept opening and closing his mouth, trying to decide what to respond with. Otabek wasn't going to give him a chance. "Forget it. I'm going to study in my room."

He left Jean and went into his room. He knew he was gradually closing himself off and Jean was only trying to help. He was his friend, after all. Probably his only friend by now.

With a sigh, Otabek flopped down on his mattress. He looked at the rumbled sheets and smiled at the memory they brought on.

He thought about texting Yuri. See if he was free to go get lunch or something. However, his brain got the best of him. He didn't know what they were exactly, and didn't want to push it.

Were they friends? Fuck buddies? Possibly something more? Otabek wasn't sure.

As he was pondering this, his thoughts started to wander. It was easy to go from an easy thought to over thinking everything around him. 

Occasionally, his thoughts would take a dark turn. This didn't happen very often, but it scared Otabek when it did.

He wasn't stupid. He didn't think he would ever go so far as to actually try to kill himself or anything. However, he couldn't help but think about the pain he was causing to everyone around him. Jean was worried about him. More so than usual. Even Isabella seemed concerned. Mila...he didn't even to get started with her. Those were just the three he interacted with the most. His father, brother, even his mother would be happier if they didn't have to deal with his mistakes.

Otabek pressed his palms to his eyes until colors swimmed behind his eyelids. He didn't want to think of this. He was scared to see what would happen if he let the thoughts evolve.

He couldn't drink. No, he still felt groggy from the night before. He smoked the rest of his weed with Yuri last night, and didn't think he could bring himself to ask Jean. That left only one option.

It couldn't be that bad, right? Sure, it had only been about a week since the last time he took the pills, but a little more won't hurt. He really needed it this time.

After he popped the little green pill into his mouth and chased it down with water, Otabek felt guilty. This was the third time this month. He never did it this often. There wasn't much time to dwell on this, because before long, he was sinking into the mattress.

 

Two days later, Otabek was trying to stay awake during his morning class. He sleepily watched as the student to his left pulled out a jar of instant coffee. He was appalled, watching the guy pour the powder in a tissue, wrap it up, and put it in his bottom lip like it was chew. Well, it was probably less harmful than the ones that put hand sanitizer under their eyes.

His class wasn't exactly boring. The professor was the problem. he was old and monotone, making his voice seem to drag on and on. Otabek couldn't even focus on what the guy was saying.

He was half way to dozing off when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Grateful for distraction, he pulled it down and read the message.

_You free today?_

It was from Yuri. Otabek had sent him a text the day before, just letting him know what his number was. This is the first time they actually talked since after the party.

_In class right now, but it is boring anyways. Why?_

He left his phone in his lap, so he wouldn't draw too much attention. He was far off in the back, but the professor had caught him on his phone before. He didn't need anymore points docked from his final.

_I could use some company._

Attached was an address, presumably Yuri's. Otabek clicked on it, judging the distance. It was across town, but he took his bike so it should be a quick trip.

_Be there in 10._

Otabek quickly and quietly packed up his things and left the classroom. He was going to end up falling asleep in there anyways.

He put the address into his GPS and took off. It was on the opposite end of the city than where Otabek lived, meaning it must be a nicer complex than the one Otabek himself stayed at.

Sure enough, when he parked his bike, he took in the sight of the apartment complex. Even from the outside Otabek could tell it was probably five times as much as his own.

Yuri had texted him his apartment number, which was on the 6th floor. Otabeks building only had three floors. Not surprisingly, the elevator here actually worked.

He knocked on the door labeled 6E and waited. Seconds passed before the door opened, with Yuri standing behind it.

Otabeks jaw almost hit the floor. This guy always managed to surprise him. He was wearing a black silk robe with floral designs etched into it. His hair was up in a messy bun, loose strands falling down past his shoulders. His skin looked like porcelain and Otabek could smell a cherry blossom fragrance coming off of him.

"You are drooling." Yuri said, looking at him with an amused gaze.

Otabek wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, not even embarrassed about it. He did feel a little self conscious, however, in his ratty jeans and old leather jacket.

He couldn't help but wonder what he just got himself into.


	9. Platinum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I'm getting more confident in my smut writing

"You can come in, you know." Yuri swung his hips as he walked away from the door, leaving it open for Otabek to walk through.

Otabek suddenly had the urge to chase him down. It was like a primal instinct, as if Yuri was a tasty meal.

In a way, he was.

"Nice place." Otabek said, shutting the door behind him. It really was. Nicer than any apartment Otabek had ever seen. It even had a coat rack for his jacket.

It was very modern, like a fancier version of a studio apartment. They walked into the large main room. There was a yellow couch with a matching loveseat and armchair. Across from the couch was a TV the size of Otabeks mattress. There was an expensive rug on the floor, with a white coffee table on top. 

Behind every thing was floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the city. Otabek walked over, looking down at the streets bellow.

"Nice view, huh?" Yuri said, suddenly beside him.

Otabek smirked and turned his head towards him. "Not as nice as the one I have now."

Yuri actually blushed, but seemed pleased with the compliment.

"You already got me in bed. You don't need to be so cheesy."

"You didn't need to dress like that, either." Otabek countered.

Yuri moved over to the couch, laying back on it. "Oh, this? I always wear this around the house. More freedom that way."

Even if Otabek didn't believe him, he said nothing. No one he hooked up with every dressed up for him. "Nice change from those tacky boxers you wore last time."

Yuri scowled and threw a decorative pillow his way. "Stop doing that when I'm trying to be sexy!"

"Trust me." Otabek said as he stalked towards him. "You don't need to try."

This made Yuri blush again. As much as he tried to hide it, Otabek knew he was shy when it came to these things. He was honestly surprised that he invited him over. Even more surprised that he got all dressed up.

"Does it make it better or worse that I'm wearing a leopard print thong?"

Otabek groaned audibly, sitting down next to Yuri. He pulled the blond into his arms, taking in the sight. "Are you trying to make me internally combust?

Yuri giggled, and Otabek didn't realize he missed that sound. "Maybe I like teasing you."

Teasing was exactly what he was doing. Otabek couldn't get enough. He put his hand on Yuri's knee, running his hand up his smooth thigh. He even shaved his legs for this. 

Not wanting to waste any time, Otabek leaned forward and pressed his lips against Yuri's. his lips were soft and glossy, and tasted like cherries. Otabek parted his lips, running his tongue along the others bottom lip, getting more of the taste.

He kept running his hand up and down his thigh, the other pressed against the back of Yuri's neck. Yuri was kissing him eagerly, like he couldn't get enough.

Otabek smirked and pulled away, loving the way that Yuri pouted.

"Who is the tease now?" Yuri whined.

Otabek laughed and slammed his lips to Yuri's again. He kissed him harder this time, more desperately. He felt Yuri moving and let him crawl on top of his lip, straddling him.

Otabek took advantage of the knew position and moved his hands, undoing the tie on the robe. As soon as he did, he slipped the silky fabric off of his shoulders. 

He moved his mouth to Yuri's neck, drawing out a small moan from him. The sounds increased as his nipped at the skin under his Adams apple.

"Otabekkkk..." Yuri moaned out, tilting his head so Otabek had more access.

Normally, Otabek hated it when people used his real name. Hearing it coming out of Yuri's lips, however, he didn't care. He said it like it was a prayer, and Otabek didn't want to hear anything else.

After tossing the robe aside, Otabek looked down. True to his word, Yuri was clad in a leopard print thong. There was a black lace trim on it, and it barely held his growing erection.

"Wow. That's hotter than I thought it would be."

Yuri's cheeks got even redder. He slapped his hand against Otabeks chest. "Shut up!"

Otabek chuckled and moved his hands to his hips. He had a great idea in his head. "Lube?"

Pleased that they were finally getting sonewhere, yuri reached over and grabbed a bottle from under one of the pillows. It was cotton candy flavored.

When Otabek reached for it, Yuri moved it out of his grasp. "Clothes off first. I want to see you."

Otabek rolled his eyes, but obeyed. He pulled his shirt off, throwing it on the other end of the couch.

Yuri stood up long enough for Otabek to remove his boxers and jeans before climbing back on his lap. "Much better."

He was finally handed the lube, and wasted no time. He saw Yuri go to remove the thong but slapped his hand away. When he didn't say anything, Yuri gave him a questioning look.

"You'll see." Otabek smirked as he coated his fingers, letting the lube warm up.

He moved both hands behind Yuri, pulled the string of the thong to the side with one hand, and circling his rim with the other. He felt Yuri tremble on top of him and that was enough motivation to push the first finger in.

It went in easily, making it obvious to Otabek that Yuri had prepped himself before hand. He looked up at him only to see a mischievous grin on the others face.

"I didn't want to have to wait."

Otabek couldn't help but let out a growl. He immediately pushed in two more fingers, making Yuri let put a surprised yelp.

He continued to finger him roughly, seeing if he was stretched good enough. Yuri was mewling above him, grinding down into his fingers.

"Please, just fuck me already!" Yuri pleaded, a desperate look on his face.

Curling his fingers, Otabek pressed against Yuri's sweet spot, causing him to let out a lewd moan. "Condom first, kitten."

"Under the pillow! Under the pillow!" He seemed close to begging. He wouldn't stop the little movements he was making with his hips, trying to take Otabeks fingers deeper.

Amused, Otabek pulled his fingers out, causing Yuri to whine. Otabek shushed him with a kiss and fumbled around for the condoms. He finally got one out of the box and handed it to Yuri.

"You do it." He said, a sly smile on his face. "My hands are slippery."

Yuri swallowed and nodded, taking the condom. He opened it and wrapped his hand around Otabeks shaft before rolling it down. He even grabbed the lube, slicking him up. Otabek hummed, enjoying Yuri's hands on him. Sadly, they were gone too soon.

Not wanting to waste another minute, Otabek lifted Yuri above him. He kept the hand that was holding his thong aside and slowly lowered him down.

Their moans were in sync when Otabek finally bottomed out. He looked up at Yuri's face only to see him staring back, heavily lidded. Otabek bit his lip, grinding up against him.

Yuri let out a shaky breath, putting his hands on Otabeks shoulders for support. He slowly raised himself up, before moving back down.

"Fuck..."

They started off slowly, letting Yuri adjust and get his own rhythm. Once he was ready, he was rocking their hips together, fucking himself down onto Otabek. 

Otabek tightened his grip on Yuri's hips, digging his fingers in. He was trying not to make too much noise, knowing it sometimes throws his partners off. He couldn't help the occasional groan he would let out, though.

Yuri shifted back, changing his angle before slamming himself back down. he let out a high pitched noise, tilting his head back. Otabek took advantage and resumed his work on his neck from earlier.

He nipped and sucked at his neck as Yuri started to bounce on his dick. The tight heat enveloping him felt wonderful. The noises he was getting out of Yuri was even better.

Otabek felt his pleasure growing, and knew he wasn't going to last long. The teasing from earlier had done him in. To make sure he got Yuri off, he lifted his hips off of him slightly before thrusting up into him.

The noises that came out of Yuri then sounded straight out of a porno. Otabek grunted, thrusting up harder. Yuri panted and whined, resting his forehead on Otabeks shoulder. 

"Oh my god. Holy fuck. Don't stop. There, there!" Yuri was basically howling with how much noise he was making.

Otabek had to squeeze his eyes shut and concentrate on not cumming right away. He knew Yuri was on the edge of an orgasm, with how high his voice had gotten. He felt one of the hands move from his shoulder, and knew Yuri was touching himself.

"Otabek, please!" He begged, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling Otabeks ears. "Fuck, I'm going to cum!"

Sure enough, after a few more thrusts, he felt Yuri shudder above him. Seman splattered across his chest, and Yuri was mumbling in another language.

With a low groan, Otabek slammed up one more time before spilling into the condom. He held Yuri tight, holding him down onto him until he finished.

They both sat there, coming down from their highs and trying to catch their breaths. He felt Yuri stir, and watched as he removed himself from Otabeks lap. He proceeded to move his head down, lapping at his chest with his tongue.

Otabek watched as Yuri cleaned him up with his tongue, moaning at the taste. Otabeks breath hitched and he squirmed in his seat.

"Fuck, that's hot." He admitted, unable to take his eyes away.

Yuri hummed and pulled away, licking his lips. "Only fair that I clean up my own mess."

Otabek just nodded, transfixed. Yuri noticed his dazed expression and smiled proudly. He stood up, slipping his robe back on. "Hungry?"


	10. Winded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Couple reasons why I'm posting this. 
> 
> One, I kind of like this chapter. Took a while to figure out what to do, but once I got it, it was realky fun to write. I loved it. 
> 
> Two, I realized how much it sucks waiting for a chapter. When in not writing or doing personal life stuff, I read. I like reading the longer, completed fics, but I kind of ran out of those. So I have been reading uncompleted. NO ONE TOLD ME HOW FUCKING ANNOYING IT IS TO HAVE TO WAIT WEEKS UNTIL AN UPDATE. This is shit! 
> 
> I will try to update more frequently. However, never realized how hard this would be. My original plan was to focus on Otabek's growing addiction but I love the fuck buddy aspect, too. I also am a whore for psychological views and do that a lot in my writing (which is why I suck when it comes to dialogue and action) Oh well.
> 
>  
> 
> If any of you guys have some fic recommendations I will be honored. Like I said, I perfer long ones, but I don't mind one shots if they are good. I mostly read Otabek/Yuri but I'm also a sucker for Otabek/JJ. Please dont kill me for that admiration. And send me fics I'm bored

Otabek only stayed long enough to enjoy a quiet lunch. They made sandwiches, and ate at the breakfast bar. It was past noon, and Otabek had had a small breakfast, so he was greatful.

He thanked Yuri for the food before heading out. He was in a lot better mood than before. It wasn't even just the sex, even though that was amazing. Otabek found that he wouldn't mind just hanging out with Yuri.

Otabek smiled to himself, thankful that he got to keep this one. He had wanted him ever since he saw him at that record store. 

Thinking about this raised a question. If Yuri worked at that store, how did he afford that apartment? He must have something else on the side. Otabek made a mental note to ask about it later.

It wasn't until after he got home that he realized he forgot his jacket. His keys were in his jacket. He had a small feeling of deja vu as he pounded his fist against the door.

The door swung open, revealing an unamused Jean. "Buy a chain and put that key around your neck."

Otabek chuckled as he walked in, earning a raised eyebrow from Jean. There were grocery bags sitting on the kitchen table, so Otabek went to work putting them away.

"Okay, what is with you?" Jean asked, skeptical.

Putting the milk away, Otabek hummed. "What? I can't be in a good mood?"

Jean kept giving him a weird look, but didn't say anything else as they proceeded to put the groceries away. They had gone too long with just tap water and stale bread. Otabek set a couple steaks out to thaw for dinner. He looked up to see that Jean was still looking at him.

Otabek frowned. "Why are you staring at me? Is there something on my face?"

"It's just good to see you happy is all."

That night, they had steak and beer while watching a reality show on TV. Otabek took a picture, sending it to Yuri. He got a picture of a cat curled up on the yellow couch as a response.

"Who are you texting?" Jean asked, trying to get a look at his phone.

Otabek hid his screen from view before turning his phone off in general. "No one important."

"Oh yeah?" Jean asked, grinning. "Then why are you smiling?"

Otabek responded by hitting Jean in the face with a pillow. This only made him smile even more, reminding him of the morning. God, he was already whipped.

"How is Isabella?" Otabek asked, changing the subject.

Isabella was a topic Jean could spend hours talking about. He would go on about how her hair looks when the sunlight hits it, and how her face scrunches up when she is working on the crosswords from the newspaper. He would explain that she is the most beautiful when she thought he wasn't looking at her. It was ironic, considering Jean's eyes would light up everytime her name was mentioned.

"You love her." Otabek observed, sipping his beer.

Jean stopped talking and pressed his lips together firmly. A small blush rose to his cheeks, and he nodded shyly. "I really think I do, Becks."

As happy as Otabek was for his friend, he felt a little jealous of him. Even though he would deny it until the day he died, Otabek kind of wished he had someone to talk about like Jean did. 

Otabek cleared his throat and took another sip of his beer. "You two fuck yet?"

A loud laugh filled the room. "Don't be so crude! You know I never kiss and tell."

"So you haven't?"

All of Jean's earlier confidence vanished and was replaced by nervous embarrassment. He ran his fingers through the shaved part of his hair, looking down at his lap. "I want it to be special for her. She's never done it before."

Otabek choked on his beer. "She is a virgin?"

That comment earned him a punch in the shoulder. "Don't be like that! I'm nervous. I've never been with a virgin."

"Jesus Christ." Otabek mumbled. He did not deserve to be put in this situation. "Look, it's not that complicated."

"Isn't it? I don't want her to be uncomfortable, and it needs to be romantic. And don't girls like, bleed their first time or something?"

Otabek wiped his face with his hands. The last thing he wanted to do was have this conversation. However, Jean was his friend, and asking for help. Otabek couldn't just refuse, could he?

"Look, man. It's simple. Do that shit they do in the movies, with candles and roses or something. Play some music. It's not rocket science."

Jean nodded his head, looking like he was taking mental notes. "What about if she bleeds?"

"For fucks sake, just put down a towel!"

Otabek got up before Jean could do something like hug him. He took their plates to the kitchen, throwing them in the sink. He stared at the water as it slowly filled up the sink, a memory coming to the surface.  
  

    
_"Hey, Otya? Can I ask you a question?" Aram asked, playing with his hands._

_Otabek slid out from under the truck he was working on. His shirt was covered in oil, so he wiped his hands on a rag as he sat up. "Sure, bud. What's up?"_

_"How do you kiss a girl?"_

_Otabek smiled, leaning on the wooden work bench. "You going to ask Rosie out?"_

_Aram's face paled, while his cheeks turned pink at the same time. "H-How did you know I liked her?"_

_Otabek had laughed, and ruffled his little brothers hair. "I know everything. Besides, I saw that picture of her underneath your pillow."_

_The youngers eyes had gotten wide, and he chewed on his bottom lip. "Are you going to help me, or make fun of me?"_

_"Don't worry, little brother." Otabek said, leading him out of the garage. "I will teach you everything I know."_  
  

    
There were few memories of his family that would make him smile. The only exception was his brother. He was younger by four years, but wiser than anyone Otabek knew.

After washing the dishes, Otabek headed to his room. When he passed Jean's room, he heard his muffled voice. He was probably on the phone with Isabella. They liked to pray together before bed.

Otabek smiled to himself and headed into his room. He sat on the edge of his mattress and pulled out his phone. He scrolled through his contacts before selecting the one he was looking for.

He didn't realize he hadn't thought this through until the first ring. He hadn't talked to Aram since Almaty, and he wasn't sure he would even want to speak to him. 

The phone rung again, and Otabek felt his heart beat increasing. What was he thinking? His family hated him. Why would his brother be any different?

After the third ring Otabek considered hanging up. He had his finger on the button when he heard the click. He paused, frozen in place.

There was static, and the sound of a radio playing in the background. He could hear heavy breathing from the other line. 

"Otya, thank god." Aram said, sighing in relief. "I need your help with something."

Otabek let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. His voice was still shaky when he spoke. "What is it, little brother?"

The music cut off, and Otabek could hear the hum of an engine. Aram was in a car, then. He stuttered for a bit, nervous, before half shouting his question.

"How do you take off a bra?"


	11. Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, I know. I'm at that point in writers block where I feel like everything I write is shit. I should probably get a beta. Make my life easier.
> 
> Anyways, here is my word vomit of a chapter. It does have drug shit going down so just a warning

"Dude. You need a hair cut."

Otabek was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal. It was early Thursday morning, and they were both sat at the kitchen table. Jean was across from him, sipping his coffee while staring at Otabek.

He ran his fingers through his hair and grimaced. It had been a while since his last hair cut. The strands on top were past his nose by now. The shorter part at the back was almost long enough to grab.

"I can have Izzy do it for you. She always cuts my hair." Jean said, tapping his fingers on his coffee mug.

Otabek shrugged. "Whatever."

He had to admit, it had been bothering him for a while. When he woke up in the morning, it was like gravity didn't effect his hair and it would stick up all over the place. If it wasn't doing that, it was falling in his face and blocking his view. 

Jean stood, going to drop his mug off in the kitchen. "So. Any plans for today?"

"Not really." Otabek said, drinking the milk from his bowl. "I don't have any classes today."

It wasn't a complete lie. He did have one class, but the professor didn't care if he showed up or not, as long as he passed the exam.

"I have an interview in a couple hours, then I'm going to meet Izzy for lunch."

Otabek nodded, not knowing what to respond. He knew that Jean was pushing for him to make plans, get out more. Frankly, that was the last thing Otabek wanted to do.

"There is a discovery channel marathon on today that I was thinking of watching." Otabek said, smug.

Jean rolled his eyes and sighed. He didn't say anything, but Otabek could see the way he was judging him.

"Alright. Whatever. I will be back sometime in the afternoon." Jean left the kitchen, and grabbed his bags. He gave Otabek a pointed look before leaving the apartment.

Otabek remebered when he was young, he hated being left alone. There wasn't anything to do, or anyone to talk to. While he still doesn't like it, he accepted that it was going to happen.

He started off by washing all the dishes from breakfast. When that was done, he set out on cleaning the apartment. Both of them were rather tidy, so their wasn't much to do. He gathered the trash, sorted the mail, and swept.

Otabek probably checked his phone twelve times in the last five minutes. He wasn't really hoping for anything, just a distraction.

With a sigh, he headed to his bedroom. He took the sheets off, throwing them in the dirty clothes hamper, along with any clothes he found on the floor. He was sorting the items on top of his dresser when he got an idea.

He had been planning on going for a pill run for a while now. He had started taking half a pill every other morning, just to keep him stable. This meant he ran out quicker than normal.

The last time he had anything was two days ago, and he already felt irritable. He didn't know much about continuous usage. All he knew is what his dealer told him about getting sick.

Otabek checked his phone again, chewing on his bottom lip. He still hadn't gotten his jacket from Yuri's, but the he heard Yuri was at work right now.

There wasn't anything better for Otabek to do. Besides, what would he tell Jean if he actually got sick? A search through his wallet only revealed twenty dollars and some change. He needed to find another job soon.

Nervous excitement filled his veins as Otabek changed into a pair of jeans and a hoodie. He put his wallet and his phone in the pocket, grabbing the spare key off the hook as he went out.

His dealer only lived a block away from him. He sent him a text, letting him know he was coming. Twenty dollars should get him enough until he can manage to get a job.

Leo was the name of his dealer. They met when Otabek first came to America. He was an art major at the college, and used dealing to help pay for his student loans.

While Otabek didn't consider them good friends, they were known to hang out sometimes. Jean, too. The three of them would get high together and help each other study for finals.

Otabek was expected the warm greeting when Leo opened the door. "Beck! Hey, man. It's been a while."

"Yeah, it has." Otabek confirmed, walking in. "You finish that painting?"

Leo's apartment was filled with unfinished pieces and bottles of paint. The last time Otabek came over, Leo was talking about some big exhibition piece he was working on. He had spent two months on it already.

"Ah, not yet. Still have some details to finish."

He must have been painting when Otabek texted him. He was wearing old, faded clothes, with traces of paint on them. He had blue and red smears on his hands, and even some green on his nose.

Otabek looked around, admiring some of the paintings. There was a plastic tarp covering most of the floor, a couple stretched canvases in the corner. The stereo was on, playing the same playlist of 70s protest songs as always.

"I got rid of the rest of the Reggie, but I should have some Dro left." Leo explained, leaving the room and coming back with a small chest.

"I'm, uh, not here for pot." Otabek admitted sheepishly.

Leo looked at him for a minute before nodding. He dug around in the box for another minute. "Shit, sorry. Forgot you were on the other stuff."

While Leo set up his bag, Otabek sat down on the couch. It was brown and worn, and creaked loudly when he sat down. He watched as Leo pulked out a few small orange bottles, reading the labels.

"I actually don't have a lot of Oxy right now. Won't get anymore until next month."

Otabek didn't think he could wait until next month. He was already restless as it was, and had the beginnings of a cold. Jean would notice something was up soon.

"Well, what else do you have?"

"I have a few Hydros. Not as good as the Oxy, but should help hide any...symptoms." He gave Otabek a pointed look as he said that.

"What else?"

Leo sighed, running his hand through his hair. He took a look at the contents of his stash, and the twenty dollars Otabek had to offer.

"Most of what I have is too expensive. Twenty dollars won't even get you a gram of smack." He sat down next to Otabek, grabbing a couple of the bottles. "You ever had bars?"

Otabek frowned. "Bars?"

"Yeah. I have some Xanax and shit." Leo explained as he poured a few out from the bottle. "Not an opiate, but it Wil chill you out."

Otabek nodded, looking at the variety of pills scattered in front of him. "Alright. That works. Now, where is that painting you wanted to show me?"


	12. Aspire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter, but I am planning a longer one later

Otabek didn't stay long at Leo's. He got his drugs, made polite coversation, and then said his goodbyes. He didn't know if it was more of a convienance or annoyance that his dealer was a good friend of his. On one hand, he gave him discounts and helped him with the stuff. On the other, he liked when Otabek stayed and chatted when all he wanted to do was get high. He was confidential, though, and kept his usage from Jean. He doubted many people in this area would do the same.

He went home quickly to find that Jean was still out. He looked at the time, and hummed. Jean wasn't do back for another few hours, actually. Otabek could probably get high right now.

Otabek learned from a quick Google search that he could crush his pills and snort them. It supposedly took less to get the sane effect, and with the shortage he had, Otabek was willing to try.

Of course, Google didn't give him much information and he had no idea what he was doing. Crushing the pills was hard enough. He didn't know how to do it with two spoons like the forum suggested, so he grabbed a hammer instead.

He probably looked crazy, having pushed half the stuff o his dresser top to the floor. He put a single pill on the wooden surface, grinding it into powder with the hammer. He didn't know how fine he was supposed to do it, so he just continued until it was all relatively the same size.

American movies loved glamorizing drug use. Otabek remembered watching countless movies where they had scenes showing people doing cocaine. He kept this in mind as he pulled out his credit card, separating the powder in lines.

That was another tricky part. He didn't know how thick or long to make them. Be decided to try both a skinny line and a fat line to see which was easiest. Now he just needed something to snort it with.

He heard of people using straws and rolled up dollar bills. He just used the last of his money to buy the stuff, so the dollar was out. He didn't even think they owned a straw in the apartment. He didn't have any other ideas, so he just went for it.

Otabek plugged up the nostril he wasn't using and lowered down to the long thin lie. He was nervous, but ignored it. He inhaled deeply and ran his nose across the line. He found out very quickly that going slow was a terrible idea. He pulled his head back and winced, pinching his nose. It felt like his nose was on fire.

Still, he had another line, and already went that far. He took a deep breath and lowered down again, this time using the other nostril. He inhaled it quickly, and noticed how it didn't burn as bad, but still burned.

Otabek sat on the edge of his mattress, still holding his nose. After a few moments he gasped and fell back on his bed. It amazed him how fast the oxy hit him. It normally took anywhere between fifteen to thirty minutes to hit. Doing it this way, however, it was almost instantaneous.

It could have been all in his head, but he swore the effects were stronger, too. He closed his eyes, letting out a pleased sigh. He had never felt this good in his entire life.

Before he got too messed up to do so, he grabbed his phone and his headphones. He put on his go to high playlist and turned up the volume. The sound of Eden's voice filled his ears and he closed his eyes, ready to enjoy his couple hours of peace.

However, where normally he could lay there and enjoy the music, now he was having some problems. His muscle in his thigh kept twitching, and when he'd relax, he had this weird feeling. He wouldn't fall asleep, but he wasnt completely aware of where he was. When he noticed he would jerk up, causing the muscle to spasm again.

It was a very weird sensation. It had never happened before when he would take them orally. Maybe it was stronger when snorted. That must be it, he thought. He would have to do more research on it later.

Not long after that, he was pretty sure he passed out for real. All he knew was that when he came to, hours had passed. He could hear Jean moving around in the kitchen, presumably making dinner.

Otabek got up with a groan, feeling sluggish and a little out of it. He put his stuff away before leaving his room. He blinked for a few moments, letting his eyes adjust as he walked down the hall and into the main room. Sure enough, Jean was in front of the stove, cooking something. The smell made Otabeks stomach turn and he knew he wasn't going to be able to eat much.

He walked over to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. He chugged half of it in one go. He didn't realize he was so thirsty. Jean looked over and raised an eyebrow. "You good?"

Otabek nodded, and went to sit at the table. He pulled his phone out to look busy, scrolling through Instagram.

"I didn't know if you ate already or not. I'm just making some grilled cheese." Jean explained. "I can make you one, if you want."

"No, thanks. I already ate."

Otabek sipped at his water and scrolled through his phone as Jean sat down. He ate quietly for a moment, and Otabek could tell he was tired. Jean took a sip from his own bottle of water, and looked up.

"So, I, uh, I bought condoms today." He said, not even a little bit embarrassed by it. Nervous, yes, but not embarrassed. This couldn't be good.

Otabek blinked, not knowing how to respond. He forgot all about Jean's plan to have sex with Isabella. After a long pause, he nodded slowly. "And?"

"...I don't know how to put one on."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Otabek cursed under his breath. Of course. Of course he would have to have this talk. He already gave him tips on what to do. This was starting to annoy him.

"Did they not teach you sex ed in Canada?" Otabek asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

Jean shook his head, a sheepish look on his face. "My parents never signed the permission slip."

Otabek let his head hit against the table. He really did not want to do this. But when he looked up, Jean was giving him those sad puppy eyes, and he knew he had no other choice.

"Alright, fine." Otabek said with a sigh. "I'll show you how to put on a condom. Go get me a banana."


	13. Gravity

"What the fuck do you mean you are kicking me out?"

"Only until tomorrow." Jean clarified. "It is Valentine's Day, Beck. Isabella is coming over tonight. I can't have you here for that."

Otabek rolled his eyes. He wanted to protest, say that he could just hide in his room all night. However, he knew this was important for Jean. It was something personal, and it would be wrong of Otabek to be there for that. "Fine. I'll leave. But if I come back tomorrow to find out you two didn't fuck, I'm gonna be pissed."

He left Jean on the couch and headed into his bedroom. Where was he even supposed to go? One name popped into his mind and he chewed on his bottom lip. He pulled out his phone, sending a text to Yuri.

_Do you have plans tonight?_

Otabek knew he probably sounded like a fuck boy. Which, to be honest, he kind of was. Normally he would spend this day with Mila, but that was over. He needed a new plan.

_If you bring me roses I will burn them._

A small smile crept on Otabeks face as he read the message. He was too busy typing a response to notice Jean standing in the doorway.

"I've caught you smiling at your phone all week." Jean said with a coy smile on his lips. "You seeing someone, then?"

Otabek rolled his eyes and walked over, shoving Jean out of his room and shut the door. He didn't feel like explaining this to Jean. He didn't even know what it was himself. He grabbed his university bag, taking out the few books he had in there. He tossed in a change of clothes and his wallet. He was folding up his socks when his phone chimed.

_You can come over, if you want. I'll keep you company ;)_

Otabek didn't need to be told twice. He looked down at his clothes. A plain black t-shirt and jeans with holes in the knees. He shrugged, deeming it good enough. He ran his fingers through his hair, taming it the best he could before grabbing the bag and leaving his room. Jean went to say something, but Otabek just flipped him off playfully and left.

He got on his bike, jacket-less again. It was a good thing Yuri invited him over. He will finally be able to get his leather jacket back. He always drove slower and more careful when he didn't have his jacket on. The last thing he wanted was to end up a stain on the pavement.

The path to Yuri's apartment was familiar, now that he knew where he lived. He still found it astonishing that he lived in the area he did. Otabek didn't know anybody else that had enough money for one of those apartments. 

He parked his bike in the same spot as last time. He sent Yuri a text, letting him know he was coming up. Otabek got on the elevator, pushing the button for the 6th floor. There was a woman on the elevator when he got on. She gave him a look like he wasn't good enough to even be on that elevator. He didn't exactly blame her. When the lift stopped on Yuri's floor, Otabek quickly got off, not wanting to be under the lady's judgemental gaze any longer.

Yuri opened the door after two knocks. He looked Otabek over and smiled. "No flowers, I see."

Otabek chuckled and stepped in. He set his bag down by the coat rack, mostly to make sure he didn't forget his jacket this time.

"Yeah, sorry to text you out of the blue." He stated, following Yuri to the couch. "My roommate kicked me out for the night."

Yuri made an amused sound and flopped down on the couch. Otabek couldn't help but notice it was the same place they fucked before. He watched as Yuri grabbed a black and gold bong from his coffee table. Otabek's smile widened as he moved over, sitting next to Yuri. Yuri took a hit, and then passed it to Otabek. Otabek watched the smoke as it slipped past Yuri's parted lips. He hummed, flicking the lighter, taking his own hit.

They stayed like that for a while, sitting on the couch, passing the bong back and forth. They kept on until the bowl was empty and they were too lazy to grab another gram. Yuri sunk back into the couch, looking more relaxed than Otabek has ever seen him.

After a minute, Yuri spoke. "What do you do? Like, for a living."

Otabek had his eyes closed, enjoying the high. He hummed in acknowledgement of Yuri's question, thinking of a response. "Techincally, I'm unemployed right now."

He did have a job, a while back. He had worked as a bartender at some club downtown. He actually enjoyed it, and was close with the other employees. His job was just another thing effected by his visit to Almaty.

"I was a bartender, but I got fired." Otabek said, clarifying. "What about you? What do you do?"

Yuri shrugged. "I don't have a job, either,"

Otabek sat up, looking at Yuri shocked. "What do you mean you don't have a job? How do you even afford this place?"

Yuri gave him a look, like if he was anybody else, he would have been annoyed at the outburst. He probably wasn't as touchy, since he was stoned. Hr just sighed and wiped his face with the back of his hand.

"Technically, this is one of my brothers apartment." Yuri started with. "Our grandfather passed away last month, and I needed a place to stay."

Otabek felt guilty for asking now. No wonder he has never seen Yuri around. There was one part of his explanation that Otabek didn't get. "Wait, you said this was one of your brothers apartments? How many does he have?"

Yuri smiled at that, amused with Otabeks question. "Only two. He stayed in this one with his business partner for a while before they both moved out. He lives in some giant penthouse now."

After he spoke, Yuri got up. He stretched, and Otabek took the moment to appreciate what he was wearing. Low rise jeans, more holes than fabric. He had on a pair of fishnet tights underneath, and the band of them was well seen above the waistband of his jeans. The shirt he was wearing looked like he had been a simple band t-shirt once, before it had been attacked with a pair of scissors. It had been turned into a crop top, riddled with rips and cuts.

Yuri turned and saw Otabek staring, and only smirked in response. He turned and walked to the kitchen, hips swaying as he did. Otabek chuckled to himself and got up, following him.

When he walked in, he saw Yuri bent over, digging something out of the fridge. Otabek couldnt resist walking over and running his hands over Yuri's hips. The smaller male turned his read, cocking an eyebrow at Otabek. "As much as I want your dick in my ass again, I have the munchies. Eat first, then we can fuck."

Otabek smiled and nodded, taking his hands off Yuri. He watched as he pulled out a block of cheese, a package of bacon, a stick of butter, and a loaf of bread. 

"Let me guess. Grilled cheese with bacon?" Otabek asked, stomach growling at the thought of it. Yuri just grinned proudly and pulled out a pan, starting to cook.

"Look in that cabinet." Yuri said as he buttered the toast. "I think I have some poptarts left."


	14. Singles Awareness Day

Making their sandwiches turned out to not be as easy as they thought. They were both taught slightly different ways to make grilled cheese, and couldn't agree on which was the right way.

"You have to put the butter on the bread first." Yuri said, leaning against the counter.

Otabek just scoffed and pointed the spatula at him. "No, butter goes in the pan first. Then you just push the press around until the hot butter is on it."

Needless to say, they both made their own sandwiches. Yuri made tea for them to drink while they ate. Otabek hummed happily around a mouthful of cheese and bacon when Yuri sat down next to him at the table. They ate in silence, too enraptured with how good their food tasted. For desert, they had cherry poptarts and went back to the couch to smoke some more.

They spent the whole afternoon smoking and watching the nature channel on TV. Yuri was sitting across Otabeks lap, his long legs laid out on the couch. Otabek was too distracted to focus on the TV, and instead traced one of the squares of Yuri's fishnets.

"These look like they would be hard to put on. How do you not get your toes stuck in the little holes?" He asked, pulling at one of the strings, only for it to snap right back.

Yuri looked down to where Otabek was and made an amused noise. "Oh, it takes me like ten minutes to put these fuckers on. They look good, though."

Otabek nodded in agreement. They did look good. Especially on Yuri. He ran his hand up and down Yuri's thigh, exploring the bits of exposed skin. Yuri hummed, leaning into his touch.

"As much as I don't want to get up, this couch is velvet. It isn't easy to get cum off of it. Let's move to my bed." Yuri said nonchalantly.

Otabek snorted, not expecting those words to come out of Yuri's mouth. "I mean, I was fine just chilling here. But if you insist.."

He scooped Yuri up in his arms as he stood up. Yuri giggled as Otabek started to carry him to the bedroom, but made him stop and grab the bong first. Yuri took another hit as he guided Otabek to where his bedroom was.

The decor looked similar to the rest of the apartment. The floor was hardwood, but had a dark green rug in front of the bed. Unlike Otabek, Yuri actually had a bed. It was dark oak, and held the mattress a few feet of the floor. There was a fuzzy brown blanket pushed off to the side, probably when Yuri had crawled out of bed that morning. He set Yuri down carefully on it, taking the bong from him.

He rolled his eyes when Yuri whined and reached for the bong again. "No more. If you pass out while I'm fucking you, I'm not going to stop."

Yuri just raised an eyebrow and smirked, watching as Otabek set the bong aside. "Who knew you were so kinky, Altin."

One problem Otabek had when he smoked, was that it took him so long to climax. He had no problem getting hard, and stayed hard the whole time. It just took him a lot longer to finish. He mentioned this to Yuri, but he insisted it wouldn't be a problem.

That was, until an hour later, when Otabek still hadn't finished. Yuri was a complete wreck. His entire body was flushed, and he was drenched in sweat. He himself had already came twice, and was on the verge of a third, if the overstimulation wasn't holding him back. 

"O-Otabek!" He screamed, panting heavily. "Holy fuck, I don't- ah- I don't think I can do this much longer."

Yuri's throat was going raw from how much he was screaming. Otabek felt a little bad for him, but he was getting so close. He couldn't stop now. He was pretty sure his back was bleeding with how hard Yuri had been scratching him. "Just, just a little longer. I'm almost there."

Yuri groaned and threw his head back. His body shook with every thrust, and he couldn't get his legs to stop shaking. Tears had pooled into his eyes, a few slipping free. Still, through all of this, he didn't once tell Otabek to stop or even slow down. Otabek was thrusting into him so hard at this point that Yuri's hips we're bouncing off the mattress.

Otabek grunted, nearly collapsing on top of Yuri as he spilled into the condom. Once he caught his breath, he pulled out, heading to the bathroom to throw the condom away. He came back with a wet rag and cleaned Yuri up. He was laying boneless on the bed, still completely out of breath.

"I would apologize, but I did warn you." Otabek said as he cleaned Yuri's stomach and chest off. He put the rag in the laundry hamper and tugged his boxers back on. Yuri just nodded tiredly, not even bothering to put his own clothes back on.

Otabek climbed back into the bed, wrapping his arms around Yuri. He didn't normally cuddle after sex, but Yuri looked like he needed it. Sure enough, he curled up in Otsbeks arms, leaning his head on his chest. He fell asleep quickly, which wasn't very surprising, everything considered.

He made himself comfortable and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep. He woke up a couple hours later, unable to feel his arm. Yuri was still curled up against him, but was playing in his phone. He looked up when he noticed Otabek was awake. "If you say 'Round Two?' I will fucking slap you."

The comment made Otabek laugh. He pulled his arm out from under Yuri and stood up, stretching. He looked at the clock and sighed. He still had a good twelve hours before Jean would let him back in their apartment. 

Otabek got up and went to the kitchen, grabbing two bottles of water. He went back into the bedroom, handing Yuri one as he sat back down next to him. He noticed that Yuri had put his boxers back on. He relaxed against the pillows and pulled his own phone out, scrolling through Instagram.

Yuri was the first to break the silence. "We smoked like, three g's today."

"You mean, you smoked two, I smoked one." Otsbek clarified, turning to look at Yuri. Yuri just scowled and flipped him off, but it held no bite.

"What do you want me to say? I like weed."

"I've noticed."

Yuri smacked Otabek in his chest lightly, making the older male laugh. He grabbed the hand that slapped him and pulled Yuri closer to his chest. Yuri lost his fight and melted into the warmth that was Otabek.

They stayed like that, watching stupid videos on Yuri's phone. They were watching a video about some dog named misterbubz when Yuri's phone rang. Viktor flashed across the screen, and Yuri huffed as he answered the phone.

"This better be good. I'm busy." Yuri started with. Otabek could faintly hear the sound of the other person on the line. "Yes, busy! You aren't the only one with friends, old man."

Otabek tried not to listen in, not wanting to be rude. He couldn't help but chuckle when Yuri called him a friend, warning another smack in the chest.

"Yes, I have someone here right now." He said bitterly, before his eyes widened. "No! There is no way in hell you are coming over! I don't care how lonely you are!"

The conversation was short after that, and Yuri was agitated when he ended the call. He turned over, pressing kisses up Otabeks neck. "That was my dumbass brother. Won't shut up about how living in such a large apartment makes him lonely."

Otabek raised an eyebrow. He found the situation almost comical. He always was lonely in the tiny apartment he had. He couldn't imagine what it would be like with so much open space.

"I don't want to talk about him anymore." Yuri said, crawling onto Otabeks lap. "Fuck me until I'm not angry anymore."


End file.
